


Plots and Pitfalls

by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Spy!Kurt, schemes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 08:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5737504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anon prompted: WHAT IF Kurt was an incredibly terrible spy hired to follow and (arrest? kill?) Blaine but Blaine feels so bad for him and embarrassed for him that fluff happens instead? </p><p>A little off from the exact prompt, but all the basic ideas are still there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plots and Pitfalls

Kurt hoped that his posture and steely look were fooling his handler into believing he was actively awaiting his next assignment, because mentally, he was one hundred miles from the office.

Or, well, about a mile and a half from the office.

_“Oof!”_

_“Sorry, so sorry, I wasn’t loo-”_

_“No, it was me, I wasn-”_

_A pause as they finally look at each other’s faces for the first time._

_“I’m Blaine.”_

_“Kurt. And I’m still sorry about spilling your coffee.”_

_“It’s my fault, really, I wasn’t looking as I came out the door.”_

_“Are you really not going to let me make it up to you?”_

_“Oh?”_

_A tentative, hopeful smile on Blaine’s beautiful face._

_“I don’t have time for a coffee run today - but tomorrow? My treat?”_

_“I’ll be here.”_

_“I can’t wait.”_

“Hummel!” Kitty’s voice finally broke through Kurt’s daydreams, startling him into awareness.

“Sorry, ma’am. You were saying?” Kurt asked, calling on all of his training so he wouldn’t blush too hard - one of his favorite perks of being a spy.

“New assignment,” Kitty said, handing over the manila-foldered dossier. “Son of some bigshot Wall Street guy who’s trying to block a deal with one of our clients. Kidnap the kid and hold him until further instructions come through.”

“Will I have to-”

“Kill him? Not sure,” Kitty said smoothly. “Kid’s a legal adult, not an actual kid - we have some standards. But it’s up to the client to decide - if the dad doesn’t cooperate, they might make the call.”

“Got it,” Kurt said, feeling his stomach unknot - he had never killed a child before, nor did he want to. “Anything else I need to know?”

“It’s all in the brief. If you can do it by Thursday, they’ll add a fifty percent bonus to your pay.” Kitty made to leave the briefing room, then paused by the door. “Not that you need it, but good luck, Hummel. Don’t let us down now.”

“When have I ever?” Kurt asked, rolling his eyes. He opened the file as Kitty strutted out of the room, ready to take on his new target.

When he saw who the target was, though, he had to fight down the urge to be sick.

“No. No, no, no,” Kurt whispered, staring at the large color photo taped to the inside cover. “This can’t be real.”

His eyesight was impeccable, though, so he knew that he wasn’t hallucinating the words _Blaine Anderson_ that were typed neatly on the first page of the brief, nor was he confusing the man in the photo for someone else.

“God _damn_ it,” Kurt said softly, casting a glance upwards though he wasn’t even religious. “I try to make a date _one time,_ and this is what happens? I give up.”

________________

The next morning, Kurt got dressed even more carefully than usual. He was trying to look stylish yet unassuming, like he _wasn’t_ hiding various drugs and weapons upon his person.

“Focus, Hummel,” he told himself as he did his hair. “You’ve never screwed up a job before, and you’re not going to start now. Just...choose a _different_ definition of ‘getting your man.’”

Kurt drove the agency’s unmarked sedan to the coffee shop, parking it in the service alley behind the kitchen entrance so he could make a clean getaway later. Of course, he hadn’t counted on Blaine popping out of one of the cars parked on the actual street alongside the shop.

“Kurt! What did you park all the way back there for?” he asked, hustling over to join Kurt on the sidewalk. “Are customers even allowed to park there?”

“I - uh - I just wanted to keep it off the street. People don’t pay any attention when they’re driving down here, I didn’t want to lose a mirror,” Kurt lied, mentally kicking himself. _You had in-depth training on cover stories, and_ that’s _what you come up with? Brilliant, Kurt. Just brilliant._

“God, I know. I’m amazed I even got out of my car without getting hit,” Blaine said easily as they reached the shop door, apparently accepting Kurt’s story. He pulled open the door and silently motioned for Kurt to go first, making Kurt’s heart stutter like he was some schoolboy with his first crush.

“So, what would you like?” Kurt asked once they were inside.

“Really, I can get my own-”

“No! I invited you on this da - outing, I’m buying,” Kurt said, flushing slightly as his word choice. “Besides, I spilled your drink yesterday, remember? I’m making up for it.”

“Stubborn, stubborn,” Blaine teased, smiling. “Fine. I’ll take a medium drip and a promise that you’ll let _me_ buy on our next date.”

Kurt just stared, incredulous.

“Too much? Sorry, I just - I had a good feeling about this, I’m sorry if-”

“Deal,” Kurt interrupted, smiling back at Blaine. “Next time, it’s your turn.”

 _If there even_ is _a next time. If, in some ridiculous world, you forgive me for kidnapping you on our first date._

“Want me to grab a table?” Blaine asked.

“That’d be nice, thanks. You take anything in your coffee? I’ll be doctoring mine up a bit,” Kurt said, needing to plant his cover story.

“Two sugars, if you’re offering.”

“Done.” Kurt got in the quickly moving line and got their drinks practically before he was done ordering them, thanks to the well-trained baristas. He moved over to the condiment bar and pulled out a little paper package from his own pocket, ripping it open to pour in Blaine’s drink when-

“Surprise!”

“Ahhh!” Kurt jerked, spilling the contents of the package all over the counter.

“Wow, you’re really unobservant,” Blaine said offhandedly, pulling the plate full of biscotti he was holding back out of Kurt’s way. “I was only a couple places behind you in line.”

“I don’t function well before coffee,” Kurt replied easily, silently cursing the missed opportunity - all of his other kidnapping plans were far more painful than simply slipping Blaine a sedative. Still, he couldn’t help but be a little bit pleased that they could actually have a good conversation now that Blaine wouldn’t be drugged.

“I understand,” Blaine said, snagging his drink and dumping in two sugars before offering Kurt his spare arm. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Kurt said, a little bit breathless. He linked his arm with Blaine’s and let him steer them over to a table tucked in an alcove. “So. Tell me about yourself.”

Blaine started talking, revealing interests and beliefs that lined up almost spookily well with Kurt’s own. Before Kurt knew it, he was chatting away and head over heels in - well, if not love, then infatuation - with the radiant man sitting across from him.

 _How the fuck am I going to do this job?_ Kurt thought as Blaine expounded on the virtues of 21st century theater. _I can’t kidnap a guy I actually really like! And what if we’re - no, too soon, Kurt. Don’t even think it._

“Earth to Kurt,” Blaine said, chuckling. “Come in, Kurt.”

“Sorry,” Kurt said, glancing down at the table. “Lost in thought.”

“Should I be worried that you were too busy thinking to hear me ask if you wanted to meet up at the art gallery nearby tomorrow for that exhibit I was talking about?” Blaine asked, still laughing but looking a little hesitant.

“I’d love to!” Kurt said, instinctively reaching for Blaine’s hand where it lay on the table and squeezing it. He blushed when he realized what he had done, but Blaine just pulled his hand back so they could intertwine their fingers.

“Great. Then I’ll see you tomorrow? I hate to run, but I’m already so late to work-”

“No, do what you need to do,” Kurt said. “I’ve got some work stuff I need to take care of myself.”

“Have a good day, Kurt,” Blaine said, shooting Kurt a caring smile before heading for the door. Once Blaine was out of the building, Kurt huffed out a deep sigh and let himself slump over the table.

“It’s only Tuesday,” Kurt said to himself. “You have two more days. Maybe he’ll turn out to be horribly pretentious about art or something and you’ll have no qualms about kidnapping and possibly torturing him then.”

Somehow, he didn’t believe himself.

____________________

Of course, Blaine turned out to be just as wonderful on the next date, enthusiastic about the art show but comfortable enough to say when he didn’t understand a piece’s concept.

“But it’s still kind of pretty, right?” Blaine asked as they examined an abstract piece that was a little more abstract than either of them particularly cared for.

“I prefer looking at you.”

Kurt turned a deep shade of red when he realized he hadn’t just thought that comment.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Blaine said, looking surprised yet pleased.

“Would you maybe want to go back to the car?” Kurt asked, a plan coming to him. “You know - to get a better look?”

“Lead on,” Blaine said. He let Kurt take his hand and direct them back out to the parking garage, both of them giggling like teenagers the whole way.

Once they were in the lot, though, Kurt slowed, lingering outside the backseat of Blaine’s car.

“Kurt? Did you change your mind? Because that’s perfectly alright,” Blaine said, moving back over to Kurt from where he had been hastily cleaning up the backseat.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Kurt said, and knocked Blaine out with a punch to the temple.

______________________

Blaine woke up in the passenger seat - much easier to explain to a cop than the backseat - a few minutes later, as Kurt was navigating them out of the city.

“Kurt! What-”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt repeated. “I had no other choice.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Blaine asked, sounding close to tears - Kurt couldn’t bring himself to look over at him. “Kurt, why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know how to explain,” Kurt said, biting his lip. “I want to tell you everything - so bad, Blaine, I do - but how do I even begin?”

“Please, Kurt, you’re scaring me. Are you going to kill me?” Blaine asked, and Kurt had to look over when his voice cracked. The sight of Blaine crying made Kurt crack.

“I don’t just work for an office, Blaine. I’m - well, I guess you’d say I’m a spy. We work for hire, tracking corporate espionage or shaking down targets who won’t comply with our clients’ wishes. My handler gave me a file on you on Monday.”

“So that whole time, you were just playing me?” Blaine huddled toward the window, knees to his chest.

“No!” Kurt reached over to squeeze Blaine’s knee, wincing when Blaine pulled away. “When I bumped into you that morning, I _swear_ I didn’t know who you were. I made that date because I wanted to, Blaine, and I know you don’t have to believe me, but - but I’ll show you the file! It’s timestamped, you’ll see it was printed after we met!”

The car was silent for a moment.

“I - I believe you. I think,” Blaine said softly, relaxing from his defensive position. “But why was I your target? I’m not an executive anywhere.”

“They want your father to comply with some big Wall Street deal,” Kurt said. “I don’t know anything outside of that.”

“What? Kurt, my father lives in Ohio. He works in local real estate. He might be a big deal to someone in Allen County, but not to anyone in New York.”

Kurt stomped on the brakes, flinging an arm out to protect Blaine as the car came to a screeching halt. “What?!”

“I can show you his company’s website if you’d like,” Blaine said, pulling out his phone.

“How the fuck did I not remember to take that from you?” Kurt asked, shaking his head. “But no, that’s fine, Blaine. I know we’ve only been on about a date and a half, but - I trust you.”

“I trust you, too, Kurt. Unless you’re still about to kidnap me,” Blaine said, managing a half smirk. “No. We’re going back to the agency,” Kurt said, checking for traffic and pulling a U-turn. “I’m getting answers.”

________________

The car ride back to the city was remarkably enjoyable for an aborted kidnapping. Blaine turned up the satellite radio and they sang along to every song they knew, creating some pretty decent harmonies along the way. Before Kurt knew it, they were parked outside his office building.

“C’mon,” he said. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, just in case there’s something larger going on here.”

Kurt waited for Blaine to get out before taking his hand and leading them inside, heading directly for Director Sylvester’s private elevator.

“Play it cool,” he said quietly as they ascended. “Director Sylvester can literally smell fear, if the rumors about what they’ve done to her in the biotech lab are true.”

Blaine gulped but straightened his shoulders, offering Kurt a tentative smile as the elevator dinged.

“Porcelain. Oh, and the target. Was the safehouse not to your liking?” Director Sylvester asked as they entered her office, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Excuse me?” Kurt asked.

“I had it set up especially for you two. Candles, music, a basket full of vibrators,” the director said blithely. “Was the lube the wrong flavor? I knew you were more of a watermelon guy, Porcelain.”

“I don’t follow,” Blaine said.

“I arranged this mission,” Director Sylvester explained. “I saw you, Hair Gel, exiting the grocery store near my apartment one day and instantly knew you and Porcelain would make a sweet couple. So I arranged for Kurt to have to target you and then set up the safehouse to be the perfect first date location. He could even tell you freely about his job this way.”

Kurt and Blaine just stared at her.

“Since you came in here holding hands, I have to assume my plan worked. You’re welcome.”

“Director Sylvester, I actually met Blaine _before_ you assigned him to me,” Kurt said, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “We even planned a date.”

“Oh? Then you should still be grateful for the supplies,” Director Sylvester said.

Kurt took a deep breath. “Thank you, Director. Are we free to go?”

“I would have preferred you left my office five minutes ago.”

Kurt dragged Blaine back into the elevator and out of the building, waiting til they were safely in the car to speak.

“I’m so sorry, my boss is clearly nuts-”

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m mostly just relieved to know that no one’s _actually_ after my life,” Blaine said, squeezing Kurt’s hand.

“I understand if you never want to see me again-”

“Did I say that?” Blaine asked. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, Kurt. If you’re not allowed to see me again for security reasons or whatever, I get it-”

“That’s not a problem!” Kurt said quickly. “It’ll be nice, actually, having someone who’s in on the secret. Even my dad doesn’t know.”

“So you’d be willing to try this date again sometime? Maybe without the head injuries?” Blaine asked, smiling hopefully.

“I would love that,” Kurt said, smiling back. He started the car and began to drive to his own place, figuring Blaine would drive himself home from there eventually. After a few seconds, he noticed that Blaine was giggling in the passenger seat. “What?”

“You’re really a spy? I snuck up on you twice,” Blaine said, snickering away. “Are you in, like, remedial spy training?”

“I’ll have you know I’m actually the best in the agency!” Kurt said, scowling.

“Sure, Kurt. Whatever you say.”

“See if I go out with you again.”

“Empty threat.”

“You already know me too well.”

“I look forward to getting to know you even more, though.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” Kurt looked at Blaine for a split second, just long enough for him to accidentally start drifting into the other lane and almost hit an oncoming car.

Blaine’s laughter lasted the rest of the way back to Kurt’s place.


End file.
